


Blade

by Bazylia_de_Grean



Category: Pillars of Eternity
Genre: Animancy, Gen, Leaden Key, PoE Inktober
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-02
Updated: 2018-11-02
Packaged: 2019-08-16 18:10:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16500233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bazylia_de_Grean/pseuds/Bazylia_de_Grean
Summary: They did not listen to his warning that something terrible was bound to happen if they continued their research. This will be the last chance for some of them to reconsider. But for that, he must show them that he spoke the truth.





	Blade

**Author's Note:**

> (Prompts: PoE Inktober day 25: 'blade' + weekly PoE prompts week 64: 'harvest'.)

The first time he is preparing for it, he is nervous. He has killed before, often enough, but always by magic, and always – usually – kith he did not know – or at least did not know well. It is different now, when he has spent months watching them work. He tried to change their minds, to lead them away from animancy.

They did not listen to his warning that something terrible was bound to happen if they continued their research. This will be the last chance for some of them to reconsider. But for that, he must show them that he spoke the truth.

Iselmyr, usually helping him in battle, is silent now, hiding. It is not a fight, after all. All the better. This is his test, and he will complete it alone. And he will _pass_ it.

This is an animancer, Aloth reminds himself, and no matter how well-intentioned they were – and gods his witnesses, this man is not – it always stained their minds in the end.

Besides, if one society could turn themselves into deities, what would stop another? It is better if the tools are taken from their hands, if the weaponsmith is disposed of before he can forge a sword.

When he plunges the dagger into the animancer’s side, right between the ribs, his hands are shaking. When he withdraws the crimson-stained blade, they are steady and he is calm, detached.

Someone always has to pay. Better to sacrifice a few for the sake of many; is that not the cornerstone every civilisation is built upon? This is an offering – to the gods, perhaps – for the safety of the world. Better to make sure it spins slowly in the same place than if it was to be shaken and ruined. Not everything that is destroyed can be rebuilt.

Not a very high price, Aloth muses. A life – not even a soul. Nothing, compared to what the Watcher did at Teir Nowneth. But seeing Heritage Hill now, whenever he visits Defiance Bay, convinces him over and over again that it was the right choice. Even Iselmyr, protesting against so many of his decisions, cannot argue with proof like that.

One life, this time. He hopes that the others will think twice before pursuing animancy again. If not, he will find them later, or his acolytes will.

Aloth carefully cuts off a small piece of his plain robe and wipes the dagger on it. He walks over to the table, puts the research papers into a neat file and sets it on fire. For a while, he watches them burn. Then, standing at the threshold, he throws a bottle filled with strange liquid together with another spell. Flames engulf the chamber; for a moment, he could swear he sees Magran’s figure in the flames.

He smiles, despite himself. It was obvious from the very beginning that the Leaden Key had to have resources. But the scale and ingenuity of some of those does not cease to amaze the scholar in him. Small graces, at least.

This is not how he imagined his future when he decided to take over Thaos’ duties. Holy quest, he corrects himself, his smile turning sour before it disappears altogether.

It is a thankless, difficult task. But necessary. Someone has to harvest the weeds to let the wheat grow.


End file.
